Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1887-03-14

''That's one thing in my favor"
Rast congratulated himself, and
his spirits rose. Perhaps by leaping
from cake to cake he might in time
gain the land. 1t was very good
thing that he could jump well-Chal
would have hard one TO beat him at
that. They would race again to-
morrow, and if he was of mind to
trv, he could win without any trouble.
But as time passed, even these cheer
ing thoughts failed to keep up Rast's
courage, and he shuddered as the
licking waves curled over the edge of
the ice cake. 1t was no use; he
! would deceive himself no longer. He
knew well that he dared not quit his
solid cake for one that might break
under him and drop him into Black
river. No vessel would think of com
ing upstream when the ice was go
ing out and for help from the shore
-buSIC NdS hdiNlN Al hOuoC hAAiihi
sound of the river from Clearharbor
to the bay. 1t grew dark very rap
idly, and as nothing could be seen on
either hand, Rast was obliged to give
up his endeavors and drift on. At
bend in the river the old whirling
motion began anew, and closing his
eyes he planted his pick pole in the
middle of the ice cake, and leaned
his head against it, making every ef-
fort to keep his brain clear. A crunch
ing noise startled him. Was it a
field white with snow stretching
before him, or the beach strewed
with blocks of ice? 1t was neither.
1t was a jam in the rivers curve. On
over the piled-up mass he sprang,
leaping black pools and swinging out
over sinking cakes. If he could only
reach land before the jam broke up!
But bewildered, instead of making
for the nearest shore, he had taken
a direct course to the jam, which was
already yielding to the pressure in
the rear.
Rast hardly discovered his error
before he was off again. The cake
under his feet cracked and split, but
gathering all his energy, he managed |
to get on the largest fragment as it
fioated away, settling under his |
weight till the water almost touched |
his knees. His exertions had left |
him so weak that he had not strength |
enough to hope for rescue. Once he
essayed to shout, but his voice was
as hoarse as the croak of a frog. |
How long he drifted on Rast never |
knew. At last a delightful sense of |
drowsiness crept over him. Did some |
one call him, or were the boys cheer
ing because he had won the race! |
1t did not matter which, for Rast had |
become Indifferent to care.
Having once accepted Chal as his |
chief, Ned Crocker |
set out to execute his orders. The
news spread rapidly, but before the
townsfolk were aroused he had pro-
cured two good horses, and in com
pany with Harry Mclean was clat-
tering over the bridge. When the
report reached Deacon Hastings ears
it had assumed still more alarming
proportions. Ragbag's version af-
forded some comfort, and when the |
little fellow said, cOnsolingly, "Don't
you worry, deakin, something or 9TH
er IL bring Rast back Rast III come
out all right, deakin, cause he will,
tears fell from the good mans eyes,
and he knelt on his dusty little groc-
cry and prayed to the only One who
was able to save his boy.
In the meantime Will Ransom
had taken his boat from her winter
quarters and hurried her away. The
road leading from the bridge to the
foot of the island was soon alive with
men in wagons and men on foot, ca
ger to help in some way; but it was
poor at best, and it seemed a long
time before the foremost carriages
arrived at their destination. Then
huge fires were kindled, and men
with lanterns stationed themselves
along the beach. Ned and Harry
returned from a voyage ia a rickety
dory, but brought no news. The
row-boat, manned by four sturdy fish
ermen, was launched, and the rest Of
the men gathered in small groups,
talking in low tones. Was that a
cry from the river or the wind sitting
through the branches of the pines!
''There's the boat - some one ex-
claimed.
''Keep quiet" replied another, with
a glance toward Deacon Hastings.
You'll hear the oars long before you
see her."
But soon others caught sight Of
some dark object moving at little
distance from the shore, faint, yet
growing more and more distinct. The
figure glided silently into the beach
just below, and each man condemned
himself for superstition when the
voice of Challis Grey was recognized.
"Say lend a fellow a hand, win you =
IL was a night Of surprises but
there was little room in the heart Of
any for anght besides thank ksgiving
when Rast Hastings, alive bat thor
oughly exhausted, was lifted from
the bottom of Chafs canoe. Until
late that night the Hastings home